


into the empty distance

by littlebirdfalling



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Friends With Benefits, M/M, Multi, Other, do mind the content warnings please, tags will be updated as it's written, this is a rewrite so I have...the vaguest idea of where I will be going with this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 09:37:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17159621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlebirdfalling/pseuds/littlebirdfalling
Summary: “Do you not have a last name, Montparnasse?” The lights have changed to blue, and their skin is glowing.“I could tell you…” He murmurs, leaning forward. “But I would have to kill you.”





	into the empty distance

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "Do not go far off" by Pablo Neruda  
> This is a rewrite of an older fic, one I have never been 100 percent happy with, "No Strings Attached"

The club is loud, more crowded than usual. Or at least that’s how it feels to Montparnasse. Maybe he’s too used to more quiet nights out now that he’s no longer a teenager.  _ Not that ‘quiet’ means ‘normal’  _  he thinks with something that could almost be a smile.

“You know,” A voice beside him says. “Typically one orders a drink, in a place like this.” He has to remind himself that he’s in public, that it can’t be that hard for someone to sneak up on him in a bar like this. It doesn’t stop his hand from going to the knife at his side, on instinct.

“Typically,” He says, with a composure that could probably rival Claquesous, “You make an introduction before commenting on the behaviors of strangers.”

“You’re doing the same thing to me, no?” The light changes enough for him to catch a glimpse of their impish grin, their shining red hair. “Jehan Prouvaire. They/them.”

“Montparnasse. He/him.”

“Do you not have a last name, Montparnasse?” The lights have changed to blue, and their skin is  _ glowing. _

“I could tell you…” He murmurs, leaning forward. “But I would have to kill you.” They tip their head back in delighted laughter, hand clutching his wrist. 

“You’re an interesting one.” They say, eyes sparkling. He only grins.

“I would offer to buy a drink, but yours looks nearly untouched.”

“I don’t come here for the alcohol. The people, the lights, the noise…” They smile. “Perhaps it’s foolish. It’s easier to forget yourself when you’re surrounded by so many others.”

“It is.” He agrees. “Not so easy to forget someone else.” Their hand is still clutching his wrist, and he thinks their fingers might burn an imprint into him. He thinks he probably wouldn’t care. “If it’s people and lights and sound you’re looking for, I can’t offer that. I can offer a much more….tasteful atmosphere.” Jehan eyes the couple scarcely ten feet away from them, practically undressing each other in the middle of the dance floor, and grimaces.

“Perhaps you’re right. How do I know I can trust you, Montparnasse?”

“Oh, you absolutely can't.” He replies. “But I think you like that.” He grins darkly. There’s a strange, smoldering sensation underneath his skin, burning like a fire inside his veins. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, maybe foolish desire, maybe the spark in Jehan’s eye. But he wants this. He wants  _ them _ . And Montparnasse does not like to see pretty people go so easily. To his surprise and delight, their lips form a delighted smile.

“Very well, then, seeing as I'm in need of a cigarette anyways.” They tip back the remainder of their drink in one fell swoop, setting it on the table closest to them. “Shall we go?”

 

* * *

 

 

Compared to the club, the night is cool. Crisp. In the light, Jehan is even better than he’d thought. Their hair is illuminated like a flame under the streetlights, and freckles dot their skin beautifully. He pulls the pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket, wordlessly offering them one, and they take it without hesitation. As he lights his own, they stick theirs between their teeth, raising an eyebrow. A challenge. He takes it, stepping forward to cup their cheek in his hand. He feels more than sees their intake of breath as he lights their cigarette off his. 

“Thank you.” Jehan breathes, neither moving away. For a moment it’s only the two of them,breaths in sync and the cool night air between them. He’s pressed closely to them, and the urge to rip the cigarette from their mouth, to take their face in his hands, to smudge the lipstick they wear so prettily-

He swallows hard and steps away. Something in Jehan’s expression falls. 

“Where are we going?” They ask conversationally, something in them a bit muted now.

“Well, I have a brand new bottle of pinot grigio in my apartment, and not a soul to share it with. If you’re willing...” 

“I am rather partial to pinot grigio.” There’s a certain playfulness in their eyes that has him smiling.

“It’s just around this corner.”

“Convenient.”

“I’m pretty sure my roommate picked this place only for its proximity to the bar. ”

“Roomate?” They ask. His expression goes angry for a moment. 

“Yeah. Well, one of them. He’s an asshole. He’s gone right now. We don’t...he’ll be back, though. Always is.” They nod in understanding.

“One time my roommate went missing for an entire week. When he finally showed up back home, he had a tattoo on his ass, a black eye, and a jacket that I  _ know _ wasn’t his. And he didn’t remember what had happened.”

“I have many, many questions.”

“So does he.”

“So...this is it.” He stops in front of an apartment building, with rotting wooden steps and a dilapidated sign next to it. Jehan can’t make it out. “Home sweet home.” 

“Charming.” Jehan says, and Montparnasse snorts.

“It’s a shithole, but at least the neighbors don’t ask questions when I come home covered in blood.” He smiles wickedly, showing his teeth, and Jehan inadvertently shivers in...fear? Delight? Anticipation? They aren’t sure. “Well, come in.” He leads them down a darkened hallway with a flickering lightbulb, and unlocks the second door on the right.   
The apartment is warmer, cozier, than they expected. There’s a blue couch that looks soft, and inviting, and a large tv. There’s even a kitchen island. There’s a window above the kitchen sink, and it’s open to let some cool air in. 

“Oh, goddamnit, it’s raining.” They glance outside and, sure enough, raindrops are beginning to pepper the asphalt, and wind is shaking the leaves from the tree outside.

“It’s lovely.” They say, softly. Montparnasse looks slightly surprised, but says

“Not much, but one of my roommates is a total neat freak. So it’s clean at least. Come on, that Pinot Grigio won’t drink itself.” Sure enough, there’s a bottle of wine on his coffee table.

“Roommates, plural?”

“Yeah. They’re out tonight, though.” He doesn’t offer further information.

“And drinking alone felt too pathetic, so you went to a bar?”

“Precisely.” Grinning, he reaches for the light switch on the wall, but when he flicks it nothing happens. “Oh, for fucks sake. They fucking shut us off-I  _ told _ those idiots to stop paying them in bills stained in blood, they’re gonna stop accepting it. Wait a second.”

“Not a problem.” Jehan says, amused. He sets off towards a closed door, most likely his bedroom, and comes back with candles. “Come on, sit down.” He lights the candles as Jehan takes a seat on the couch, which is just as soft as they’d suspected. “There. At least we can see, now.” He glances up and decides the candles were  _ definitely _ a mistake. Jehan glows in the candlelight, their skin, their hair, even their  _ freckles. _ He feels that strange urge to touch them again, to rest a hand against the soft skin of their cheek. Swallowing hard, he takes the wine and pours them each a glass, not hesitating to knock his back immediately. Jehan grins, and follows suit. 

“Aren’t you supposed to savor wine?”

“Maybe. I don’t give a shit though, do you?”

“Not really.”

“Oh, you’ve smudged your lipstick.” He immediately regrets saying this, as now it’s  _ obvious _ that he’s been looking, staring at their soft, plump lips. They reach a hand up to their mouth, and it comes away purple. Carefully, delicately, they reach towards Montparnasse and run their thumb over his lip, staining it the same shade as theirs. Their hand comes to rest on his cheek, gentle and warm.

“I have to tell you something.” They whisper, not moving their hand.

“What?” Montparnasse asks, his voice low and husky.

“I fucking hate pinot grigio.” It takes a moment for him to register this, and in this time Jehan leans forward, closing the gap between them.

 

* * *

 

 

Montparnasse is used to fast. He’s used to  _ get them in the apartment, fuck, say goodnight.  _ He’s used to leaving early in the morning, or waking up to an empty bed. He’s used to quick, dirty, and meaningless.

He’s not used to this. He’s not used to the passion that comes with actually  _ liking _ the person you’re in bed with. Half the time he doesn’t even know their names, and he doesn’t care anything for them one way or another. But Jehan is different, somehow. He finds himself not wanting it to end, not wanting them to go.

They don’t go. They curl up next to him, their hair fanned and splayed across the pillows,  _ his pillows, _ and fall asleep. He stays awake, unable to concentrate. He has purple lipstick smudged like bruises on his collarbones, nail marks on his hips, his back, and he can’t remember ever feeling so comfortable. He feels like he could eat the world, like he could do anything.

He must fall asleep though, because he wakes up to an empty bed. There’s a purple kiss on his hand, and a hastily scrawled phone number.

 

* * *

 

 

**Pain in the ass: are you fucking kidding me**

**Montparnasse: what do you want ep its too early for this**

**Pain in the ass: you fucked /jehan/?**

**Montparnasse: oh shit you know them?**

**Pain in the ass: yes you dumbass and its good to know you pay attention when i talk about my friends**

**Pain in the ass: dont do this to them parnasse**

**Montparnasse: i dont know what youre talking about**

**Pain in the ass: don’t you dare break their heart**

**Pain in the ass: i will fucking castrate you**

**Montparnasse: how the fuck am i supposed to break their heart it was a one time thing jesus**

**Pain in the ass: for your sake it better have been**

**Pain in the ass: i mean it parnasse**

**Montparnasse: calm the fuck down ep**

**Montparnasse: it was just sex that was literally it**

  
  


* * *

 

 

**_Les amis groupchat_ **

 

**_flowerchild: grantaire_ **

**_flowerchild: i finally understand your life_ **

**_Enjolras: that is a dangerous statement to make_ **

**_Mothmom: jehan sweetie what did you do_ **

**_MemeFucker: yeah even i have to agree that’s probably not a good thing_ **

**_flowerchild: i hooked up_ **

**_flowerchild: with a stranger_ **

**_flowerchild: that i met in a bar_ **

**_MemeFucker: YASSS JEHAN GET SOME_ **

**_Enjolras: jehan that could’ve been incredibly dangerous im disappointed in you_ **

**_Mothmom: Jehan, I’m confused_ **

**_Mothmom: did the safety lecture i gave all of you not work?_ **

**_flowerchild: tbh i most definitely wasn’t paying attention_ **

**_Courfgayrac: jehan im so proud of you_ **

**_Courfgayrac: you arent a flowerchild anymore you’re a flower ADULT_ **

**_flowerchild: damn u right_ **

**_flowerchild: but i dont actually know how to change my username and at this point im too afraid to ask_ **

**_Courfgayrac: anyway i want the FULL SCOOP_ **

**_Courfgayrac: are you gonna like date this person?_ **

**_flowerchild: oh no its just a casual thing_ **

**_flowerchild: i dont think he’s really the dating type anyway_ **

**_flowerchild: but i did give him my number_ **

**_MemeFucker: honey im so fucking proud of you_ **

**_flowerchild: :D_ **

 

* * *

 

 

“I know that’s my weed.” Babet tells him, collapsing on Montparnasse’s couch. Montparnasse flips him off with remarkable accuracy, despite being upside down on the couch with his eyes closed. 

“Well, if you’d stop leaving your shit at my apartment, I wouldn’t have it in the first place.” Babet snorts.

“If you really cared you wouldn’t have given me keys.”

“That was in case of emergency.”

“You didn’t install an alarm system either, so it’s technically on you.”

“Shit, Babet, you think I have that kind of money?” Babet rolls his eyes.

“At least give me a hit.”

“Hm.” Montparnasse says lazily. “What’s that they say about ‘finders keepers’?”

“I’m pretty sure the saying goes ‘you’re an asshole, weed is expensive.”

“Don’t pretend you payed for it. And no it isn’t.” With a sigh, Babet sits down, and Montparnasse opens one eye.

“Any word from Gueul? It’s been about two days, he should be starting to calm down by now.”

“He’s alive. Pissed off, probably getting drunk, but he’s alive. He texted me this morning.”

“...saying?”

“The gist of it was ‘you’re a fucking asshole how dare you it’s not fair’. The usual, for him.”

“Mmmm.” Montparnasse rolls his eyes. “And Sous?”

“The job went okay last night. He’s a little bruised, but not bad.”

“Then why didn’t he come home?” Babet raises an eyebrow.

“There was some sort of close call, apparently. I don’t think Faun is gonna let him out of their sight for a while.” Montparnasse sighs heavily.

“Insufferable.”

“You’re telling  _ me. _ ” 

 

* * *

 

 

Jehan hums to themself as they walk in the door of the musain.

“Good morning, Jehan!” Chetta says warmly. “I made you some tea.”

“As always, Chetta, you’re  _ amazing. _ ” She pats their head affectionately.

“Any time, dear. Keep an eye on my boys, will you?”

“Of course. I thought Joly was home with measles?”

“False alarm, Combeferre confirmed.” She replies with a smile. “Good luck up there, Grantaire and Enjolras are already fighting.”

“As always.” Jehan sighs. “I hope I don’t have to intervene again. Last time I broke Enj’s nose, and felt simply  _ awful. _ ”

“I thought you were all friends.”

“Oh, we are. But Grantaire is my dearest of heart, and when Enjolras said that Grantaire’s mother would be disappointed in him, it took Bahorel  _ and _ Courfeyrac to hold me back.”

“Then how did you break his nose?”

“Oh, they had to let me go to stop Eponine.” They grin conspiratorially at her, and Chetta shakes her head. 

“You’re going to be the death of me.” She sighs, a definite grin on her face. “Go on, get up there before they start the meeting without you.”

“Oh, they wouldn’t.” Nevertheless, with a cheerful wave, they disappear up the stairs.

“Good afternoon!” They say.

“Ah, there they are!” Grantaire replies. “Jehan, our resident badass!” 

“Hello, Taire. You weren’t home when I got there, everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, I was with JBM. Didn’t I leave a note? I guess I might have forgotten.” 

“It’s very possible that I didn’t see it.” Jehan admits with a smile.

“Why? Were you distracted from a night of hot sex?” Courfeyrac asks, wiggling his eyebrows. “Spill the tea, Jehan!”

“You two should  _ not _ be encouraging this kind of behavior.” Enjolras says, crossing his arms. Jehan feels the smile slipping from their face.

“I’m not a child, Enj, and you’re not my mother.”

“They speak the truth, Apollo. Jehan is free to do whatever-or  _ whoever _ -they want.” Grantaire grins, clearly enjoying himself.

“Of course, Jehan. I didn’t intend to infantilize you. I only meant-” Combeferre shoots him a look, and Enj stops midsentence.

“Enjolras only meant to say that we were concerned for your safety, is all.” Jehan crosses their arms. “You have to admit, going home with strangers in a bar is definitely  _ not _ the safest behavior.” 

“There’s a difference between intrepid and dauntless.” Enjolras interjects. Ferre turns around to face him.

“Stop. Talking.  _ You’re making it worse. _ ” He hisses.

“Do you guys not think I can take care of myself?” They ask, glaring daggers at anyone who dares meet eyes with them. “Because I may be the youngest here, but I feel very confident in my physical abilities. Except for Bahorel. I probably couldn’t take Bahorel.”

“Oh my god would everybody  _ relax? _ ” Eponine asks, standing up. “I know him. He can be a bit of a douche, and he’s definitely not above petty thievery, especially when it concerns weed, but he wouldn’t’ve hurt Jehan. He only hurts people who deserve it. Mostly.”

“Okay, that kind of makes me feel even worse.” Ferre admits. 

“He does kinda sound like a bad guy.” Courf admits. “But Jehan likes to live on the edge. And who doesn’t like bad boys, right?” Combeferre looks somewhere between exasperated and offended, and it would be comical if Jehan weren’t so upset.

“Don’t worry, I’ll probably never see him again.” Jehan sighs. “Although I did leave him my number.”

“You  _ left him _ your  _ number? _ ” Enjolras and Combeferre say in the same breath.

“Um, are we going to spend the whole meeting talking about Jehan’s sex life? Because like...I’d really,  _ really, _ rather not.” Marius says, his first words the entire meeting.

“Shut up, babe, this is better than the movies.” Cosette says, laying a finger on his lips.

“I really hope you’re getting this all down in the minutes.” Bahorel tells Joly.

“Every word.” Joly replies, a faint smile on his lips.


End file.
